


Fostered Angel

by UltraTainted



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abused Dean, Alpha Castiel, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Angels, Alternate Universe - Human, Angel Dean Winchester, Angel Wings, Caring Castiel, Child Abuse, Dean Smith - Freeform, Doctor Castiel, Dom Castiel, Dom/sub Undertones, Foster Care, Foster Mom Donna, Foster Mom Jody, Hurt Dean, Lawyer Donna, Light BDSM, M/M, Mute Dean, Omega Dean, Sexual Content, Sheriff Jody, Social Worker Becky, Sub Dean, Underage - Freeform, Verbal Abuse, Wing Grooming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-26 12:09:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6238102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltraTainted/pseuds/UltraTainted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Smith is an angel. His foster family is human. The man next door is interesting.<br/>Dean had been in and out of foster families ever since he was four years old. Some were abusive, most were at least neglective. Then Dean lands in Jody Mills and Donna Hanscum's house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fuck The Foster System..... Or Maybe Not

**Author's Note:**

> Hello people. I'm slacking off on writing the sequel of That Car Is Hot, mainly because I don't want to do it right now. So I wrote this instead, cause I happen to like omega angel Dean. There is going to be, oh probably at least three parts. Don't quote me on that, that would be a terrible idea. Also, if anyone asks why Becky is paired with Anna, I was really fucking tired when I wrote that part and I thought it would be cute, so fuck you.

“You fucking idiot omega!” Raph yelled, delivering a forceful punch to Dean’s stomach, “That clock has been in our family for five generations.”

  
Dean doubled over, gasping to regain the breath that had been knocked out of him. Raph grabbed a handful of feathers and twisted, hard. Crying out, Dean dropped to his knees and struck at Raph’s legs with his fists. Not that it made any difference, except to make the man angrier.

  
“You little bitch,” he seethed, “fucking useless angel.” Raph kicked Dean in the ribs. “You broke the clock with these fucking wings.”

  
Raph shifted his grip on the wing from feathers to the delicate bone and yanked it up and backwards. Dean screamed in pain, arching his back, and growling. He kept struggling, trying to break free from the painful grip.

  
Sending another swift kick to Dean's rib’s, Raph grabbed Dean's left arm and twisted. Dean heard the bone pop out of place. “This is what I get for bringing a fucking angel into this house.”

  
Dean looked up at the man, tears escaping his eyes but defiance radiating off him.

  
Raph leaned down inches from his face, “you're nothing but garbage, you are.” He said, then spat in Dean's face.

  
He let go, turned on his heel, and stormed out of the room.

  
Gasping, Dean slumped into a pile on the floor. He lay silent for a moment, then forced himself to his feet. He clutched his ribs, a whimper escaping his lips, and stumbled his way out of the house. The world outside seemed to spin around his head and the sun hurt his eyes, but he kept walking. His whole body hurt, a sharp shooting pain in his ribs and wing, his arm was tingling and limp, and his head was pounding behind his eyes. At least his legs still worked, albeit shakily.

 

  
By the time Dean’s vision cleared, the sky was growing dark, and there seemed to be a storm blowing in from the north. The pain in his ribs had subsided to a dull ache, and Dean realized how cold he was, probably about to be a lot colder given the coming storm. He turned his head to take in his surroundings. At least he was on a road, where, he didn't have a clue. There weren’t any houses in sight, and the nearest street light was a ways behind him. Quickly evaluating his options, Dean decided to keep walking in the direction he was heading. There was no way in hell he was going back to Raph, not now.

  
So for two hours, Dean kept plodding down the road, slowly putting one foot in front of the other. The storm rolled in, wind and sleet beating against him, but Dean ignored it, his thin t-shirt and jeans did nothing to keep him warm, so he ignored his shivering as well. He was hunched over, holding his injured arm close and tucking his wings around him. He stared at the asphalt, watching where he put his foot next. If it hadn't been for the sudden screech of tires, Dean probably would have missed the fact that there was a vehicle behind him.

  
He heard the slam of a door and then a voice yelling, “What the hell you doing? I almost ran you over. You gone outta your damn mind?”

  
Dean turned and raised his head to peer at the man. He was an older man, human, dressed like a trucker and had a greying goatee.

  
The man’s eyebrows shot up when he saw Dean's face and he whistled lowly. “You look like you just went twelve rounds with a brick.”

  
There was a pause, probably waiting for an answer, then the man was moving forward toward Dean. “Well come on kid, can't leave you out here, my damned conscience won't stand for that, get in the truck."

  
Dean eyed him a moment longer and then moved to the passenger side of the pick up truck. He climbed in and breathed a sigh of relief at the warmth of the cab, he leaned back against the seat and winced at the twinge in his wings. The man climbed back behind the steering wheel and started on down the road. Dean stared out the windshield, glad he was now protected from the storm.

  
The man kept his mouth shut for about fifteen minutes before he started talking. “So you got a name, kid?” He asked.

  
Dean nodded his head, he was to tired to form words right now.

  
The man glanced over at Dean, “You gonna tell what your name is?”

  
Shaking his head no, Dean pulled his wings closer to him.

  
A sigh, “That's damn helpful.”

  
At least the man kind enough to pick him up off the road had a sarcastic sense of humor.

  
“I’m Rufus, just in case you was wondering.”

  
Dean side eyed Rufus a moment before looking back out at the road. The silence wasn’t really that uncomfortable, not for Dean at least, he couldn’t speak for Rufus. Hell he couldn’t even speak for himself at the moment. Sometimes Dean shut down and he couldn’t find words, it was okay, he didn’t really mind that much. He could always write it down if it was really important. Sometimes it only took a few hours for Dean’s voice to find him again, but every once and a while it took days. He had a feeling it was going to be one of those times.

  
Dean realized Rufus was talking again. “Stirling is about sixty miles away, I’m going through there, I’ll drop you at the hospital, then I guess the authorities can take care of you and whatever kind of shit you’ve gotten yourself into.”

  
Dean could feel the man's eyes on him so he nodded his head again.

Rufus didn’t say another word until he pulled his truck up to the emergency entrance of Stirling Grace Hospital.  
“Here we are, kid, you want me to go in with you?”

  
Dean shook his head and smiled at the man as he opened the door and climbed out. He lifted his hand to Rufus in a wave before turning to go into the hospital.

 

 

Needless to say, the doctors and nurses at Stirling Grace were concerned when an abused, obviously underage, omega angel walked into the ER. The police were called immediately. Dean had two doctors and at least three nurses around him, they re-located his shoulder, wrapped his ribs, gave him something to stop the pain in his head, because apparently he had sustained a concussion, and had moved on to his wings when the police arrived. Dean meticulously wrote down his name, the name of his social worker and her phone number, but when asked what had happened to him, he just shook his head and looked away. One of the doctors then shooed the officers away and told them they could wait for the social worker. She then sat down on a roller chair in front of Dean.

  
“So, Dean, I’m Dr. Braeden, I told you before, but I’m not sure you were listening.” She smiled at him. “So you have suffered a concussion, a dislocated shoulder, four broken ribs, and your right wing is severely sprained, so you can't use it for a while. We’ve but a brace on it, and you will have to keep that on until it heals. Do you understand, Dean?”

  
Dean stared at her a long moment before slowly nodding.

  
“Alright, the police have called your social worker, she's on her way, but won't get here until the morning, so we are going to give you a room for the night, does that sound good?”

  
Another small nod.

  
“Its ready now, so I’m going to take you up right now and get you settled, you must be tired, it appears you have had a stressful day.”

  
Silently Dean moved, first to the wheelchair the nurse rolled in, then to a hard hospital bed, as Dr. Braeden prompted him to. She pulled the thin blankets up and patted his arm. “I’m going to go now, Dean, the nurses station is right outside your door, they’ll be in periodically to check on you, but if you need anything, don’t hesitate to press the call button.” She walked to the door, “Get some rest, Dean.” Then she was gone.

  
Dean slept fitfully, the nurses kept waking him up when they came in, until he woke up to someone rushing into his room. “Oh Dean, I’m so sorry!”

  
It was Becky. His social worker.

  
“Oh. My. God! Who did this to you?” She laid a hand on the side of his face, a concerned, but slightly angry, look on her face.

  
Dean’s throat felt dry. “Hello, Becky.”

 

 

Becky bustled in and out of his hospital room, answering police questions, signing paperwork, fetching Dean food and juice, since she turned her nose up at the water, a warm fuzzy blanket that was undoubtedly hers since her scent was all over it, and chasing nurses out of the room. It was mid afternoon before she had everything sorted and Dean was discharged from the hospital. He sat in the backseat of Becky’s car, or rather curled up with the blanket and an enormous amount of pillows, because only Becky would think to bring pillows along in an emergency. They had a nine hour drive ahead of them and Dean planed to sleep for most of it.

Nine hours and thirty minutes later they arrived at Becky’s house, she quickly ushered him inside, introduced him to her fiance, Anna, and showed him the spare room, where he would be staying temporarily. He found it very easy to be around the two women, and his words came back to him a little more each day. Anna took him shopping to replace the items he had lost when he left Raph’s, and Becky had chocolate chip cookies for when they got back.

It had nearly been a week when Becky said she need to talk to him. “Please sit down, Dean, We have some things we need to discuss.”

His mood instantly somber, Dean sunk into a kitchen chair.

“Raphael Adler is being charged with assault and battery of a miner, among other things. All foster children are being removed from his care and he will be blacklisted in Child Services records. You won't have to appear in court against him, so you don't need to worry about that. Nobody hurts one of my kids and gets away with it.” Becky looked angry again, and it kinda scared Dean, how intense she was.

  
“Now on a more pleasant note, I’ve found you another foster family.” Her voice grew brighter as she opened the file folder in front of her. “Their names are Jody Mills and Donna Hanscum, a human couple, Jody has an adopted daughter named Alex, and there is one foster child in the home currently, her name is Charlie, and there is one girl who has been out of the system for several years, but she still lives with them. Her name is Claire.” Becky had barely paused for a breath, but she sucked one in before rushing on. “Jody is the sheriff and Donna is a successful lawyer. They live is Palo Alto, California. They haven’t ever fostered an angel before, but I filled them in on some aspects of your case and they were very interested, so what do you think? I haven’t okay’d anything yet, but if you like them, then I can get the ball rolling and you can have a permanent home in a few days.”

  
Dean looked at Becky, she seemed so hopeful and excited about the foster family, he glanced at the file she was pushing at him. “Can’t I stay here with you and Anna?” He asked quietly.

  
“Oh, Dean, I wish you could. I would love that, and Anna would too, but the agency won't let us. I already tried that.” Sadness filled Becky’s face.

  
He nodded, he understood, he really did, but he had just started to settle in here and now he had to move to a new family, a new town. He looked through the file, but he already knew he was going to say yes, he always did. There were pictures of the family. The looked nice, happy. He liked the sparkle in the red head’s eyes, that was Charlie, and it was obvious that Alex and Claire were together, they were holding hands and grinning at each other. Jody and Donna looked like a nice progressive couple, and they were all humans, since he wasn’t comfortable around his own kind, that was a plus. But then Dean had had so many bad experiences with foster families that his policy was to ‘fuck the foster system’. That attitude got him sent back quickly after he was placed, or got the shit beaten out of him, as his sore shoulder, ribs, and wings reminded him.

  
“Okay, Becky, they look nice, I guess we can try them.” Dean sat back in the chair, bringing his good wing forward to pick at some of the lower feathers.

  
“Awesome. I was hoping you'd say that. They come highly recommended by another agent, Abby.”

  
She kept rattling on, but Dean stopped listening, the itchiness of his wings distracted him. With his arm in a sling and one gimp wing, not to mention sore ribs, he didn't have full range of motion, and that spelled difficulty when it came to grooming his wings. The feathers were all mussed up and there were dead ones that needed to be removed but he could barely manage it on his own at the best of times. He already knew better than to ask a human for help, even Becky, who he trusted explicitly.

  
Angels usually had family packs that helped each other with grooming, but Dean didn't have that luxury. He had learned at a very young age that to have a human try and groom his wings would probably end in them feeling worse than they had to begin with. So Dean had learned to manage on his own, resulting in poorly groomed wings since he rarely had the patience it took to do a truly good job. But his wings were quickly falling into desperate shape, and he would have to ask for help soon.

  
He didn't really like his wings, they were too big and he found them clumsy. Not to mention they were an ugly grey colour, and arched sharply together at the top. He already had bowed legs, he hadn't really wanted bowed wings as well. Plus he wasn't good at controlling them, so every emotion was reflected in them. It wasn't a big deal around humans, especially if they weren't that familiar with angels, but if he was to spend any time around other angels he would be an open book. And that didn't really appeal to him. So, avoid angel kind at all costs.

 

 

Three days later, Becky and Dean were stepping off a plane in San Francisco, driving down to Palo Alto and pulling up to a nice yellow, two storey house on a nice little cul de sac. Dean eyed the house furtively as he climbed out of the rental car and retrieved his duffle bag. He followed Becky to the front door, his good wing wrapped around himself like a security blanket. Becky knocked on the front door and it only took a short moment for it to swing open.

  
Dean recognized the woman who answered from the pictures as Donna.

  
“Hello, ya must be Dean. Please come in."


	2. A Patchwork Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, second installment of however many there is going to be. Keep in mind I wrote some of this while I was drunk, no promises I even remember exactly what happened during that part, another bit was written when I worked my overnight shift, also no promises as to the quality of those paragraphs either. So its 4:50 am and I stayed up to write the last little bit and post it. Bon Appetit.

 Dean sat in the living room, half listening to Becky talk to his new foster parents. They had introduced themselves and said something about the girls being back later today. He hadn't really been paying attention. Jody and Donna seemed nice enough, he studied them as Becky chatted with them. She was saying something about school at the moment. God, school, he had to join a new school. But with only a week left in the current school year it wasn't likely he'd go back until next year. 

 

 A lull in the conversation drew Dean's attention, He glanced around and realized that Donna had asked him a question. He pulled his wing closer around him and stared wide eyed at her. He felt his throat closing up and coughed a little, swinging his gaze to Becky. She smiled at him and answered for him, because, unlike him, she had actually been paying attention.

 

“Dean does like reading, I’m sure he’d love it if Charlie were to take him to the library sometime.”

 

 Now the pressure was off of him, Dean let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding. He wasn’t quite prepared to leave his wing bubble of warm yet. But soon enough, Jody was suggesting that they show Dean the house. Reluctantly he got to his feet and followed the two ladies.

 

 There was a the living room, obviously, on the ground floor, a home office, where Donna did some of her work at home, there was a bathroom, a dining room and a huge kitchen that Dean itched to get his hands on, and the master bedroom.  

 

 On the second floor there were two bathrooms, and three bedrooms. One shared by Alex and Claire, one belonged to to Charlie, and the last was to be Dean's.

 

 Dean smiled when he felt it was appropriate but he didn't say a word the entire time. Becky looked at him when the tour was over. “Well, Dean, if it's alright with Jody and Donna we will leave you to get settled up here. We have some papers to sign downstairs?” The second part was directed to the two ladies, who nodded their agreement. “You can come find us when you're finished up here.” She paused a moment. “Do you have a notebook with you so you can write things down if you don't feel like talking?”

 

 Dean nodded and lifted up his duffel bag. He had one stashed right on the top, Anna had bought it for him. The ladies left to go back downstairs and Dean was by himself. He walked forward to set his duffel on the bed. It was a nice, spacious room, definitely the nicest he had ever had. The bed had a memory foam mattress, which he fell in love with as soon as he sat down on it. There was a dresser against one wall and a nightstand beside the bed. A desk sat in front of one of the windows. It was a cozy room, if a little bare, but that wasn’t really anything new, he never personalized his rooms much, he generally wasn’t in one place long enough to bother. Unpacking his things and placing them meticulously in the drawers took Dean less that fifteen minutes, but he dawdled around the room for a few more minuets.

 

 Eventually he figured he had stalled the inevitable long enough, and taking his notebook and a pen, he went back downstairs. He joined the others in the living room. He said goodbye to Becky when she left. He asked Jody if he could help her with dinner. He was peeling potatoes when the front door banged open then closed. A moment later a girl came into the kitchen. “Heya peeps, I’m home.” The red head tossed her backpack on the kitchen table.

 

 Jody fixed her eyes on the girl. “Charlie, this is Dean. Dean, Charlie.”

 

 “Hey pretty.” Charlie pinched some of cheese Jody was grating, and popped it in her mouth.

 

 “Charlie!” Jody admonished.

 

 The redhead grinned and skipped out the door and ran straight into Donna, receiving a raised eyebrow. Donna glanced at the kitchen table. “That backpack isn’t going to stay on my table is it?”

 

 Charlie ducked forward to give the blonde a kiss on the cheek. “Of course not, Momma Donna, I was just about to take it upstairs.”

 

 She snatched it up and headed back out the door, but then paused and turned back around, tromping to Dean’s side. She took the knife he was peeling the potatoes with from him and set it down. “Come with me, Dean-o, we are going to go play The Red Scare.”

 

 Dean looked at her like she had two heads, he motioned at the pile of unpeeled potatoes. “Oh come on, this will be more fun, trust me, pretty.”

 

 She pulled him along and he barely had time to grab his notebook off the table before she tugged him away. He peered at Jody and Donna over his shoulder as he walked out the door.  They were smiling. She dropped his hand when the got to her room and she went to turn on the computer sitting on her desk. “So Dean, what's your story?”

 

 Dean just stared at her.

 

 “Every foster kid has a story and something tells me you have a good one, so we are going to have a girls night so you can spill.” She grinned. “But I’ll go first.”

 

 She moved to a bean bag on the floor and motioned to the other across from it. “Sit.” She said.

 

 Automatically, Dean sunk into the glorified pillow. It was surprisingly comfortable.

 

 “So when I was twelve my parents died in a car crash, drunk driver, actually. Anyway, I was put in the system and bounced around to a few different homes before I landed here last year. The other homes I was at were pretty shity, but Jody and Donna are awesome. Have you met Alex and Claire yet?”

 

 Dean shook his head. “Okay, I’ll give you the deets on them. Alex, her real name is Annie, not sure why we call her Alex, she was Jody’s first foster kid, before Jody met Donna, and Jody adopted her when she was sixteen. She’s twenty-two now, and an art major at Stanford, she’s pretty cool, but you gotta watch her cause she likes playing pranks, and they aren’t nice pranks either. Jody actually put a ban on pranks cause they were getting a little crazy. We had to redo the bathroom up here because of one of them. We still prank each other, they just aren't quite as epic as they were before.”

 “Anyway, moving on to Claire. Claire has been here for four years, she's twenty-one, she works at Fred’s Place as a bartender. She’s totally awesome, seriously. She never really left because she's Alex’s girlfriend now, I guess they really hit it off when she first got here or whatever. They share a room down the hall, don't go in there if the door shut and their home unless you are prepared to see lesbian sex. I'm pretty sure they wouldn't care, but, you know….”

 

 Dean couldn't help but laugh at that.

 

 Charlie gave a gummy smile. “So you're turn now.”

 

 Dean looked at her, she was nice, but he hadn't told anyone except for Becky all the details of his history, and he wasn't prepared to tell Charlie everything.

 

 “Sorry, you must reach level five to unlock my tragic back story.”

 

 Charlie looked startled but then grinned. “Oh my god you speak my language, we are going to get along just fine, pretty.”

 Dean smiled, “I will give you cliff notes at least. I was put in the foster system when I was four years old. Uh, my parents……… they died. Yeah, so I've been in a lot of different homes over the years, my last one didn't work out so well so now I'm here.”

 

 “Well that will do for now I guess, what's up with the notebook? You a budding writer or something, gotta write down notes as inspiration hits or something?” Charlie lifted her foot to point at the object.

 

 “No, I don't write, sometimes I can't find words, so I write them down.” Dean explained, his wings twitching nervously.

 

 “Okay cool, that makes sense.” Charlie twirled a strand of her hair between her fingers.  

  


 Dean met Alex later that evening and Claire the next morning. They seemed, as Charlie said, pretty cool. Over the next week he settled into the home pretty well, he only had to use his notebook a few times, and usually only when talking to Jody, she kinda scared him at first. He entertained himself while Charlie was at school, and after she came back he pretty much exclusively hung out with her. Alex had told him he was free to read any of her books or use the playstation in her room and he made full use of that offer. He helped with suppers too, seriously, the kitchen was awesome.

 

 On his first Saturday at his new home, Dean was comfortable enough to all but chase Donna from the kitchen so he could make a meal. He decided on his own warped recipe of Pad Thai. Chicken, noodles, rice, peanuts, green onion, peppers and snap peas because Charlie had hauled them out of the fridge and was sitting at the bar eating them, loudly, just to get on his nerves. He had started on the sauce when Claire waltzed in the kitchen.

 

 “Well this looks interesting. Why's it got green in it?” She poked at the food with the spoon. “You know what, don't answer that. After dinner, Dean, you and me are going on a date.”

 

 He looked up at her, “No thanks, You're girlfriend would probably eat me.”

 

 Charlie snickered and Claire slapped her playfully on the arm. “Not that kind of date, sassy angel. We are going to the mall to expand your wardrobe.”

 

 “What is wrong with my wardrobe?” Dean looked down at the shirt and jeans he was wearing.

 

 “I didn't say there was anything wrong with it, I just said there wasn't enough of it. Plus, Alex says she will disown me if I stuff anymore clothes in our closet, so I'm going to spend money on you instead.” The look on Claire's face said not to argue but Dean tried anyway.

 

 “You don't have to spend your money on me Claire, I'm fine really.”  He protested.

 

 “I know, but I want to so don't be stuffy about it. Besides, I want to fit that fine ass in a nice pair of tight jeans.”

 

 Charlie perked right up, “I am totally tagging along for that.” She bit into a snap pea.

 

 “Oh shut up Charlie, you like girls.” Claire rolled her eyes.

 

 The redhead glared at her, “Like you don't? Out of the two of us, which one currently has a girlfriend?”

 

 “Yeah but I like guys too, so I'm flexible.” Claire snarked.

 

 “According to Alex, you are very flexible.” Dean remarked casually, turning to add the sauce to the Pad Thai.

 

 When he faced the girls again they were both staring at him open mouthed. Charlie had a snap pea hanging out of her mouth and it wobbled dangerously a moment before falling out, sending her scrambling to recover it. Dean laughed at her when she popped back up, pea in hand. “Oh my god, Dean, I didn't think you had that in you.” She grinned.

 

 Claire turned around and walked to the door, “Yeah, well, Alex does appreciate my flexibility. Just remember that. And prepare yourself. The Dean fashion show in scheduled for tonight.”

 

 And a fashion show it was. Alex found out over supper that they were taking Dean shopping, and she said she'd be damned if she wasn't going to watch, so Dean had three girls dragging him around the mall and picking out clothes for him, and making him try on every single article they selected. He was pretty sure the sales associates at the stores were confused when three girls and and an omega angel crowded into the fitting area. There were some catcalls involved. Most from Charlie and Claire and one from a random girl in the fitting area. Dean had winked and thrown her a kiss despite the fact he was blushing the entire time. By the time the shopping trip was over, Dean was exhausted, but his wardrobe had grown a great deal.

  


 The next morning, he woke up to an aching shoulder and itchy wings. The brace was making his wing stiff and he couldn’t wait to have it taken off. Jody had said they were going to the doctors tomorrow for a checkup, hopefully they would have good news. Flexing his wings, Dean brought his good wing forward and combed his fingers through the tangled feathers. He made a quick job of grooming, then joined Jody and Alex in the kitchen. Jody was mixing pancake batter, Alex was sitting at the bar with her sketchbook.

 

 “Good morning, Dean.” Jody looked up and smiled.

 

 “Morning.” Dean went straight to the fridge and pulled out orange juice. He poured himself a glass. “Can I cook bacon?”

 

 “Go for it, I was going to, but you are more than welcome to.” She poured batter into the heated pan. “Did you sleep well?”

 

 “No not really. Alex, would you mind keeping it down next time? I would sleep so much better if you did.” Dean smirked.

 

 Alex glanced up from her drawing. “I would actually, good sex, equals loud sex.”

 

 “Okay.” Jody sighed, “Can you not discus your sex life while I am in the room please?”

 

 Charlie came pounding down the stairs, “I smell pancakes, are we having pancakes?”

 

 “No, we are having soup for breakfast.” Jody said sarcastically.

 

 Dean grinned and snickered as he pulled the bacon out of the fridge. It didn’t take long for the smell of pancakes, bacon and eggs to bring both Donna and Claire to the kitchen. They sat at the bar and ate their breakfast, talking loudly and playfully arguing with each other. As Dean watched Charlie debate with Donna that Harry Potter was better than Lord of the Rings, he realized that he was quickly falling in love with this patchwork family. The thought sobered him a little. He had made it a rule not to get attached to his foster families, it was his defense for when he inevitably left. It hurt more if you actually liked them. He sat in relative silence for the rest of the meal.

 

 The silence didn't last for long. It was impossible when he was playing Call of Duty with Claire and Charlie. Charlie had taken control, she said that she was the queen and both Claire and Dean were her handmaidens. Claire had told her to stuff it and promptly gotten her character killed by doing the opposite of what Charlie had said. Alex, who was sitting on the bed watching and critiquing, laughed at her girlfriend and told her to respect the queen.

  


 Dean did get rid of his sling the next day. The doctor, Dr. Barnes, gave him some exercises for his shoulder, but told him not to overdo it, or she’d make him wear the sling again. Unfortunately, he was going to have to put up with the wing brace for a while longer. The severity of the sprain required movement of the limb to be kept to a minimum. Finally, she told Dean to get the hell out of her office and not come back for another week. Dean decided he liked his new doctor.

 

 He noticed an ugly blue prius in the drive of the house next to theirs as Donna pulled her SUV in their own drive. He hadn’t seen a car there before, so he stared at it a moment. Donna looked to see what had his attention.

 

 “Oh, Castiel is back from his vacation.” She got out of the car.

 

 Dean followed her. “Castiel?” What kind of weird ass name was that?

 

 “Cas is our neighbor. I imagine ya will meet him sometime, Charlie is always over there, she likes talking to him."

  
 That wasn’t saying much, Charlie could talk the ear off of anybody. Dean glanced back at the car, the guy certainly had an awful taste in vehicles.


	3. The Man Next Door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Dean gets himself in a bad head space, but he pulls through in the end.
> 
> It's taken me a while to get this chapter right. I usually write on my overnight shifts and for some reason I lost half the chapter and had to restart, which was disappointing.

“Hey, pretty!” Charlie hissed quietly. “Get that cute butt over here.”

Dean poked his head out his door, Charlie was usually never shy about her volume levels, so he was confused as to why she was whispering. She was standing next to the window at the end of the hall. She motioned him over.

“What is it?” He asked.

“Shush!” Charlie glared at him as she slid the window open. 

It was Wednesday, school had been out for the summer a total of two days, and Charlie was bored already. “Keep it down, handmaiden, we are going to go to the library cause I want books.”

“Why don’t we go out the front door?” Dean knew she wanted to go out the window.

“This is more fun.” Charlie grinned and slipped out, climbing down the side of the house with the aid of the trellis. She looked up to where Dean was watching her. “Come on, Dean, don’t be a wimp.” She called.

He was fairly certain that this particular activity in no way fell under Dr. Barnes instructions to take it easy on his shoulder, but regardless he climbed out the window and grabbed a hold of the trellis. He stood on the ground beside Charlie, “Happy now?” He asked.

“Very, now come on.” She grabbed his hand and turned around.

Dean froze when he saw an older angel standing on the lawn of the house next door. The man was watching them with a raised eyebrow. Charlie waved her hand joyfully, “Hi, Cas!” She dropped Dean’s hand and jogged over to him.

Dean followed her at a slower pace. As he got to the angel the strong scent of alpha hit him. It wasn’t a bad scent, it was actually very nice, like sharp spices and whiskey. Maybe a bit of what kinda smelt like an ocean breeze mixed in there too. The scent made him feel warm and he had to resist the urge to spread his wings. He was pretty sure they twitched and he folded them close behind him. He stayed half a step behind Charlie, hiding behind her a little. He felt safer that way, the older angel was studying him. No doubt taking in his gimp wing and the faint bruise that was still on his jaw. 

“Good morning, Charlie.” The man said.

God that voice was deep, completely alpha, Dean shivered at it. 

Charlie reached behind her and found Dean’s hand, twisting her fingers with his. “Did you have a fun vacation Cas?” She asked, squeezing Dean's fingers.

Cas seemed to consider the question a moment before answering. “It was …. interesting to say the least.” He glanced over to the house. “Are you supposed to be climbing down the side of the house, Charlie?”

Dean flushed and ducked his head, but Charlie just grinned impishly. “No, but doors are boring. Donna doesn't mind, but Jody's the one you don't want to let catch you doing it." 

Cas just smiled and shook his head a little before setting his gaze on Dean. 

“Oh Yeah!” Charlie half turned to Dean and tugged him forward, “Cas this is Dean, he’s new. Dean this is my friend Cas, he’s pretty cool.” 

Offering his hand, Cas smiled. “Hello Dean, it’s nice to meet you.”

Quickly shaking the other angels hand, Dean looked into his blue eyes, “Hi, Cas.” He said, deciding they were nice eyes. Kind eyes.

“Are you enjoying living here?” Cas asked.

Dean flicked his eyes to the huge black wings. They were very nicely groomed and kinda made Dean want to hide his own poorly maintained wings. “Uh, yea, it …. Its nice.” He stuttered.

His throat felt tight, so he stared at Charlie. Charlie didn’t make him nervous like angels did. He felt himself relaxing fractionally. She side eyed him. “Well, Dean, we should go….. do that …. thing … we were planning on doing.” 

He nodded and lifted his hand in a wave to Cas. Charlie went for a little more of an exuberant farewell and threw her arms around the older angel, giving him a big, though unexpected, hug. Dean could smell his surprise. Then Charlie had a hold of Dean’s hand again and was skipping off to the sidewalk. “Glad you're back, Cas.”

“So the store we are going to is kinda a bookstore, library, and fan shop, all in one, it’s totally awesome.”

Charlie was talking a mile a minute, but Dean wasn’t really listening, he had spaced out. He hadn’t expected to be he would be so shy around another angel. Well, shy wasn’t really the correct word. Maybe uncomfortable, yeah, that was it, uncomfortable. In his defense Cas was the first angel he had talked to in about four years. It was weird seeing someone's else's wings, which didn’t really make sense, since they were just as natural a body part as an arm or a leg. But he was accustomed to just his own wings. Wings had a language of their own and he used to know what every movement meant, but he had long forgotten. 

“I suggest we get coffee and ice cream first though.” Charlie finished.

That caught Dean’s attention. He grinned and looped his arm over her shoulders, pulling her close. “I like the way you think Charlie.” 

 

They spent more time at the store then intended. So long in fact that Jody had put an APB out on them. Dean wasn’t exactly sure how she found them, but she had shown up at the shop to find both Charlie and Dean curled up in big pillowy beanbag chairs, their noses stuck in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and Cat's Cradle respectively. She had seemed disappointed that they had slipped out, but relieved they hadn’t gotten themselves in trouble. That didn’t mean that there weren’t consequences to sneaking out. Both teens were herded into the big black SUV and taken back home. Once there, they had been told quite firmly by Donna to go to their rooms and stay there until called for.

Now, three hours later Dean was bored out of his skull. He was sitting in the middle of his bed, pulling dead feathers from his wings. He had already compulsorily cleaned his room until it was spotless. If he had any access to a cleaning agent it would be sparkling and smell nice too. There was a speck of dirt that was on the outside of the window pane that was bugging the hell out of him. He tried his best to ignore it. He had left the book he was reading at the shop, since he hadn't actually bought it. He would have walked out with it regardless, but he doubted Jody would have appreciated that. So with nothing else to do, Dean was grooming his wings. He systematically removed old feathers and straightened healthy ones. His feathers were dry, they needed oil, but milking his glands and spreading it through the feathers was not a task he wanted to tackle right now. He didn't particularly enjoy that part of the grooming process anyway. It took Dean forty five minutes to groom the first half of his wing. 

He heard Jody calling from the bottom of the stairs. “Dean, Charlie, it's supper, please come join us.”

As it turned out, their punishment wasn’t all that bad. Both teens were restricted from leaving the property without supervision for a week. But, either Alex or Claire were considered sufficient supervision. After the first couple of days, Charlie, who hated being cooped up, was all but scratching at the door. Claire took pity on her and took both teens to the bar with her, where she sat them in a corner booth and told them not to make any trouble for her. They sat in the booth, chatting and people watching. Then Dean began making up stories about customers that had Charlie laughing so hard she spilt her soda. 

Suddenly she was half standing up out of the booth and waving her hands wildly. “Cas! My favorite angel!” 

Dean glared at her and glanced over his shoulder, Castiel had just come in the door and was walking toward them, a smile on his face. He stopped by the table. “Hello, Charlie, Dean.” 

“Heya Cas,” Charlie slid over in her seat and patted the empty spot, “Sit.”

Castiel folded his wings carefully and sat down. “Do you two hang out at bars often?”

“No, but we aren't allowed out without a parole officer, and she was kind enough to let us out of lockup for a bit, so we took what we could get.” Charlie explained.

Cas was looking at her with such a lost look on his face that Dean couldn’t help but laugh. He grinned at the angel. “She means, we are grounded, we need supervision to leave the house. Claire was nice enough to bring us to work with her.”

“Ah, I see, I assume that is because you went out a window?” Cas asked, obviously amused. 

Claire walked over to the table with a beer in her hand. “Your usual, Cas.” She set it in front of the older angel. “Jody was not impressed with these two, they disappeared for seven hours straight.” 

Dean had done worse things, he shrugged, then winced and put a hand to his shoulder. He could feel Cas watching him, seriously, did the man miss a thing?

Taking a sip of her soda, Charlie scoffed. “I learned that trick from you, Claire.” She flipped her hair back, “Anyway, moving on, how was work today, Cas? Did you have any extremely interesting patients?”

“Unfortunately, I did not. Today was uncharacteristically boring.” Castiels answered. 

Dean mainly listened as the two chatted, Charlie tried to drag him into the conversation, but he kept his answers short. Besides, the friendship between the sixteen year old human and the angel in his mid thirties seemed somewhat special, and he didn't want to intrude. He learned a lot about his neighbor, however. The alpha was a trauma surgeon, he loved his job very much, he apparently had a large family, none of which lived in the area, and he helped Charlie with her calculus, which is how the whole friendship thing started to begin with. 

Eventually Charlie began to get quieter and quieter, she was watching someone on the other side of the bar. Dean searched over his shoulder until he found the subject of her attention. He smirked at his friend “Why don't you go over and introduce yourself instead of drooling all over the table?” 

She pinned him with an icy glare. “The laws surrounding humans minors are much more strict than the ones for angels, you do know that right? I could get the pretty lady in a lot of trouble.” 

Dean just smiled, challenge in his eyes. 

“Oh fuck you.” Charlie grumbled, ducking under the table to escape Cas, who looked like he was about to stop her. 

He was standing up to follow her when Dean grasped his sleeve, “Please don't.” He looked up at the angel. 

Blue eyes met green. Growing more uncomfortable as the seconds ticked by, Dean looked away first. “Uh, Charlie, she’s not dumb, she.. She won't do anything stupid.” 

“I know.” Cas sat back down, picking up his beer and tipping it back. “Just not convinced it's the brightest idea.” 

Smiling ruefully, Dean picked at a fleck on the table. “I'm not known for my bright ideas.” 

The silence dragged on and Dean risked a glance up. Cas was regarding him thoughtfully, his head cocked to one side a bit. Quickly Dean looked back down at the table. 

“If you don't mind me asking, how did you injure your wing?” Cas asked abruptly. 

Startled at the sudden change of subject, Dean stared at the man. “Uh, my last foster dad went kinda ballistic.” 

The older angel sat back in the seat, a deep growl in his throat, and the scent of anger assaulted Dean's nostrils. He flinched and hunched in on himself, pulling his wings in, making them smaller, unconsciously trying to appease the alpha even though the anger wasn't directed at him.

“I apologize, that may have been out of line.” Cas hurried to say, his voice staying calm. 

“No, it's okay.” Dean said softly. He wasn't sure why he said it, it just felt right. In fact, Dean wasn't sure why he had answered Castiel's question truthfully either. If it has been anyone else he would have blown them off or told them a silly lie, but for some reason, Dean had told Cas the truth. It had seemed the correct thing to do. Which, when Dean started thinking of the implications of that, it scared the hell out of him, so he quickly shushed that part of his mind. 

Cas was gracious enough to drop the subject for a moment, since it obviously made Dean uncomfortable. He drew the teen into trivial chit chat, and Dean slowly relaxed, enough so he was laughing and grinning, and teasing Cas just the tiniest bit about the man's ignorance of pop culture. As it turned out pretty much everything he knew was from Charlie practically forcing him to watch movies and shows with her because they had movie nights every week. Eventually, Dean worked up enough courage to ask the angel how he managed his wings, flushing a little as he asked, even though it was as natural a question as asking someone where they got their hair done. 

Cas just smiled at him, “I usually manage by myself fairly well, but once a month I go to a salon downtown and have them done. I can give you the name of the place?”

Flushing hotter, Dean shook his head at the thought of a complete stranger touching his wings. “No, that's fine.” He ran a hand through his hair and even he could smell his own repulsion at the idea. 

Cas was looking at him again. That same contemplative gaze as before, the one that made Dean feel as though the man was looking right at his soul. It didn't make Dean as uncomfortable as before, it made him feel safer, that was what scared him. 

“You're afraid.” Cas observed softly. 

Dean stared at him, his eyes wide. 

The alpha continued just as gently. “Afraid to have someone you don't know groom your wings. When was the last time you had your wings groomed properly, Dean?” 

Now Dean avoided Cas’ eyes. “It's been quite a while.” Since he was four, before he had been removed from his parents custody, his mother used to do them for him. So yeah, it had been a good long while, thirteen years, but Dean wasn't going to tell Cas that. 

“You could ask Charlie to help you, I'm sure she wouldn't mind.” Cas took a sip of his beer. 

Dean focused on the condensation on the outside of his glass of soda. He laughed gently, “I'm sure she wouldn't. She has a strange fixation with wings. But I'm not going to, have you ever had a human groom your wings?” 

“Yes, it's not the most ideal situation.” There was humor in his voice. No doubt there was a story behind it. “I can help you, if you'd like. With your injury it must be difficult.”

Dean blushed again, was it really that obvious? He supposed it was, his feathers were a mess. “Wouldn't that be weird?” 

“Not at all. Angels help other angels with grooming all the time.” Cas was all too comfortable with this line of conversation. 

“Yeah, but isn't that usually a family thing?” 

“Only because it's generally more convenient to have a parent or sibling assist. But it's not at all uncommon for friends to groom one another wings. It's referred to as mutual grooming.” 

Thankfully, Cas was being very patient with Dean. He wasn't acting like Dean was stupid for not knowing the basic shit every angel but him already knew. Dean smiled at the older man before deciding that this was enough of this conversation and turning to check on Charlie. She was flirting very hard with the lady at the bar. He was pretty sure Claire was eavesdropping and rolling her eyes. 

Cas seemed to think it was time for a subject change and casually asked. “There aren't many angels in the foster system, are there?”

The question was asked so innocently, but Dean went cold and froze up. “I d...don’t know.” He stuttered. 

He was lying and the alpha could tell. He knew exactly how many angels were in the system across the country. There were twenty-three, himself included. Angels were tight knit family groups, which meant Dean was an anomaly. Nothing but a curiosity, practically a freak, obviously there was something wrong with him. The dark thoughts swirled around his brain and he felt himself withdrawing, his words drying up. He swallowed thickly in a vain attempt to get them back, then swallowed once more. 

“Dean… hey, Dean.”

He jumped when Cas touched his arm lightly. A whine forced itself past his lips. Cas quickly withdrew his hand, splaying both palms toward Dean in a peaceful gesture. 

“Forgive me,” the alpha said meekly. “I've seemed to have overstepped my bounds.”

Dean avoided the angels gaze, eyes darting around like he was trapped and looking for an escape even as he nodded his acceptance of the apology. He forced words out. “Charlie looks like she needs a wingman.” 

He stumbled out of his seat and fled to her side, reeking of fear and he hated it. Hated that he couldn't stay there at the table with Cas any longer. Hated that he was such a fuckup. Hated that he didn't have words now. Charlie looked at him strangely as he all but plastered himself to her side. “Hey Dean, something wrong?”

He shook his head quickly. The look she gave him told him she knew he wasn't telling the truth. But she ignored it for now and turned back to the girl, “Sandra this is my friend Dean.” 

The dark haired woman gave Dean a little wave and smiled, saying hi. Dean felt like an ass for interrupting her and he looked across the bar at Claire, who was hovering nearby. She motioned him behind the bar. “What's wrong?” She asked lowly, “you looked totally spooked.” 

“Sorry.” He apologized, fiddling with the hem of his t shirt. 

“It’s fine, but are you okay?” 

He nodded. 

“Are you going to go back and sit with Cas?”

Shaking his head miserably, he curled in on himself, feeling sick. He'd just deserted a very kind man who had just asked a simple question while trying to be friendly. 

“I don't believe you when you say you're fine. Look, I'm not supposed to, but you are staying back here with me.” Claire had her hand on his arm now, when did that happen?

Dean folded himself into the corner, sitting on the floor and out of Claire's way. She kept glancing at him worriedly and coming over to try and talk, but Dean kept his mouth shut. It only took a few minutes for Charlie to join him. She sat down beside him and snagged his hand, but wisely didn't say anything. He leaned his head against her shoulder. 

He lost track of time as he sat in his silent little bubble. The noise of the bar faded out before it reached him and Charlie. He felt warm and safe and blissfully blank. Sometime later Charlie was urging him to his feet and he continued to lean on her, half hiding his face in her neck. Claire’s shift was over and she was taking them back home. Dean sat in the backseat of her truck, wrapped around Charlie. He could feel her talking but whether it was directed at him or Claire he didn't know, he couldn't bring himself to focus on the sound. He recognized the house was dark and everyone was in their beds when Charlie guided him through the hall and up the stairs. She sat him on his bed and he had a minor freak out when she went to leave. Quietly hushing him, she lay down beside him, running her fingers through his hair. He clung to her tightly, not ready to leave her comfort quite yet. 

 

The sun was streaming through the window and into his eyes when he woke up. It took him a moment to realize Charlie was sound asleep beside him. He sat up and rubbed his head,he had a pounding headache. 

“Good morning.” He heard Charlie mumble sleepily and he turned to look at her.

She was blinking lazily as she sat up. “You wanna talk about what happened last night?” She asked.

“It was nothing.” He tried brushing it off, “I was stupid.”

“That's bullshit and you know it.” 

It was impossible to fool Charlie.

“Did Cas do something to you, Dean?” 

He had been avoiding looking at her but his head snapped up at that. “No!” He said vehemently. “No, it's just…. He asked me a question and I got scared. He didn’t do anything wrong, he was being nice. I’m the one who was stupid.” 

Charlie huffed loudly. “O my god Dean, you are not stupid. Stop saying that. Now lemme guess. Cas asked you something about your past and you got triggered, right? That’s why you went into a mental funk.”

Dean felt like crying as he nodded. Charlie knew absolutely nothing about his past, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that his life had been less than stellar. “I feel awful, Charlie, I just got up and left him there. How could I do that? Why did I do that?” 

He was crying now, he could feel the cold drops trailing down his face. Charlie put her arms around him and pulled him into a hug. “Oh, pretty.” She sounded pained. “It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t help it. It’s okay Dean. It’s okay.”

She kept holding him and telling him it was okay, that he was okay, until he calmed down enough, and stopped crying. She didn’t let go of him though, and they sat in silence for a long while. It should have been uncomfortable, two friends sitting in the middle of a bed, holding each other, in complete silence, but it wasn’t. Then there was a light tap on the door and Charlie was letting go of him,. Claire slipped through the door a moment later.

“Hey Dean.” She smiled and padded forward to the bed. “You okay?”

He nodded at her and opened his mouth the apologize but she wasn't done talking. “I got Cas’ side of the story last night. I don't know what was going on in your head, but he wanted me to tell you that he was, and I quote, ‘sorry that I was such an obtuse ass.’” 

Dean's lips twitched up in a halfhearted smile, “He doesn’t need to apologize, he did nothing wrong.” 

It warmed inside, to think Castiel cared enough to apologize for something that wasn’t his fault. 

“What time is it?” Dean asked next. 

“Like three in the afternoon. Jody and Donna don’t know what happened last night. It’s up to you whether we tell them or not. I’m going down stairs to get us some breakfast.” Claire said as she stood up.

Dean decided not to tell his foster parents, there wasn’t any reason to, it had happened and he wanted to forget that it had. Telling them would just worry them and not make it go away any quicker. Sure it was avoiding a problem, but that is what Dean did best after all. He might go over later and see Cas, tell him that he was sorry about the shit that had happened to. He didn’t need to, but he did feel bad that he had deserted the alpha. Then hopefully, the whole thing would be in the past. 

He kept checking out the window to see if the man was home. Some time after five, Dean saw the blue prius in the driveway, the thing was just as fugly as ever. He sighed and grabbed a jacket. It wasn’t cold, but it gave him a sense of security. Quietly he let himself out of the house and walked up to Castiel's house. He took a deep breath and raised his hand and knocked on the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter took an unexpected turn. I did not expect for Dean to have a breakdown, but the character begged to differ

**Author's Note:**

> (work title may be subject to change)


End file.
